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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408341">Say So</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaPetiteSirene/pseuds/LaPetiteSirene'>LaPetiteSirene</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tennis, University</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 05:34:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaPetiteSirene/pseuds/LaPetiteSirene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you really like someone, but nothing can happen unless you say so. "I'd let you had I known it, why don't you say so?"</p><p>Takes place during in the future where most of the tennis players who didn't move away from tenipuri got tennis scholarships at Waseda University. What happens when all these characters go to the same school? How will they manage tennis, being older, and potentially finding someone they like? Will any of them ever do anything about it? </p><p>Quick Note: This is going to be a very slow burning story. It will focuses mostly on friendship first and foremost before romance. Also, because of the slow burn nature of the story, it will be a long, long time before anyone gets together or even is able to confess to the person they like.</p><p>Contains multiple female OCs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kirihara Akaya/Original Character(s), Momoshiro Takeshi/Tachibana An, Shiraishi Kuranosuke/Original FemaleCharacter(s), Shishido Ryou/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Say So</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter One </p><p>"Day to night to morning, keep with me in the moment"</p><p> </p><p>In a small record store hidden a block away from the Waseda University main campus in Shinjuku, two people stood glaring at each other across from the checkout counter at 10am. The store, named “Heavy Vinyl”, was 600 square feet and stuffed between a small plant nursery and a seafood restaurant specializing in eel dishes. </p><p>The checkout counter where the confrontation was taking place was immediately to the left of the entrance and spanned about 20 feet. On the right end was the cash register, and on the left end was a space where people could bring in their records to sell.</p><p>The two people continued to glare at each other until finally the older man on the customer side sighed. He ran his hand through short gray hair before wiping it on the Hawaiian shirt that he perpetually wore. Affectionately known as Uncle Jiro, he was one of the owners of the shop.</p><p>“Listen,” Uncle Jiro said, “we need the help. It can’t just be me and you pulling the shifts the entire time. Plus, with the new employee, we can have him do all of the customer check outs and one of us can go through all of the unpriced vinyl.” He gestured to the many shelves that were behind the counter, filled with unpriced records that needed to go out.</p><p>“Are you even sure he’s qualified?” asked the girl behind the counter. Takeda Haru, was dressed in a pair of high waisted jeans and an oversized t-shirt that was slightly tucked in. From the outside, she was the epitome of “cool but casual”, but she would just call it dressing lazily.</p><p>“How qualified do you need to be to ring up on a cash register?” Uncle Jiro raised an eyebrow, causing his niece to take a deep breath to calm down.</p><p>“That’s not what I’m talking about. Does he know anything about music? Is he familiar with how to handle records? Does he even know how to clean a record?” Haru ticked off each listed item on her fingers, getting more agitated the more she continued.</p><p>“Darling, you need to calm down or else you’ll pop a vein in your head.” Uncle Jiro affectionately reached out and placed his hand over Haru’s, giving her what he thought was a reassuring smile. “You’re still so young, you shouldn’t be worried this much about the store. Plus, we really <em> do </em> need the help.”</p><p>Haru didn’t want to admit it, but Uncle Jiro was right. Since the store was located so close to campus, it had only gotten more popular with the students since vinyl came back in style. They often had little time to get new product out since they were always helping with customers. It didn’t help that Haru was a student at Waseda and was often gone during the day to attend classes. </p><p>“Okay, so you’re right,” Haru finally said. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. This store is a family store, and to bring in an outsider feels <em> wrong </em> somehow. I don’t think Dad would’ve liked it.”</p><p>“Your dad was a much more reasonable person than you, and just because he left his half of the store to you doesn’t mean that you have to force yourself to be here all of the time. I’m here too, and listen, I want you to have a life. Seriously, ever since your dad died you’ve spent every waking free moment here, and that’s not good for a girl your age.”</p><p>“But I want to be here! I’m the co-owner! You should’ve consulted me too!”</p><p>“I will say, I should’ve brought this up a while ago, but I have more business smarts than you.” Uncle Jiro pointed knowingly to his temple. “I was running this store with your dad for years before you were born.” </p><p>Haru resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her uncle. After all, despite his betrayal, his hiring of a new employee came from a good place. “So when is he supposed to show up?” She quickly checked the time on her phone. “We open at 11, and there’s only five minutes left.”</p><p>“He’ll be here at 11.” Uncle Jiro cracked a wide smile. “Trust me, you’ll like him! At least you’ll like that he’s dealing with the customers while you get to price records.”</p><p>As if summoned, there was a hurried knock on the door. Jiro gave one last “be nice” look to his niece before unlocking the door and letting the young man in. A guy around the same age as Haru burst through the open door, almost knocking over the large bird of paradise plant that was next to the entrance. He righted the plant before bending over and breathing heavily as if he had just run to the shop. His hair was colored light brown, and his eyes a dark gray. </p><p>“Made it just on time!” He cheered as he stood up, looking between Jiro and Haru. He locked eyes with Haru, who couldn’t hide her surprise at his entrance. “I’m Oshitari Kenya, and I look forward to working with you!” He bowed deeply in Haru’s direction before turning to Jiro and bowed deeply as well. “Thank you for hiring me!”</p><p>“Oshitari. Kenya,” Haru repeated slowly, still trying to take in the rushed introduction. </p><p>Kenya reached over and grabbed Haru’s hand, giving it a quick shake before climbing up behind the counter and setting his backpack down. </p><p>“So bosses, what can I do?” </p><p>Kenya’s enthusiasm was infectious. Uncle Jiro laughed at the young man before flipping on the neon sign in the window that read “open”. </p><p>“First things first,” Jiro started, “you need to learn how to use this register.”</p><p>...</p><p>Kenya didn’t exactly know what to expect when he got hired at a record store. All he knew was that he was low on cash, and wanted a job that was chill. Plus, getting to listen to music all day was a major pro. Uncle Jiro taught him how to use the register in ten minutes, and from there he was left on his own. Uncle Jiro left with a wave and a promise to bring some lunch later for the two of them before waltzing right out the door with the excuse that he didn’t usually ever work on the weekends. </p><p>Kenya wished he had stayed. </p><p>Instead he was stuck in awkward silence with his other boss. It was surprising to hear that such a young student was the other owner of the store, and Kenya didn’t want to ask any questions that verged on too personal. </p><p>Kenya sat on the stool behind the register and flipped through one of his college textbooks, glancing every once in a while to his left at one Takeda Haru.</p><p>Takeda Haru. He had never met her before, and he was sure that he would’ve remembered otherwise. Her long silver hair was tied up in a half ponytail with her bangs tucked behind her ears, and her light brown eyes were hyper-focused on the pile of records she was inspecting in front of her. After thoroughly inspecting a record, she would turn to the laptop in front of her and look into the pricing. </p><p>The tapping of Kenya’s pen on his textbook was the only sound aside from the soft jazz that came from the store’s speakers. With nothing to do at the moment, Kenya let his eyes roam around the store, taking it all in. At a glance, the shop was definitely stuffed. Records covered the walls from floor to ceiling, resting on tiny shelves that held them up. Six long rows of records in crates categorized by genre and then alphabetically lined the entire store, with a listening station up near the front windows. Kenya couldn’t help but just stare at  the abundance of records that covered every available surface. The only thing that broke up the copious amount of records was the occasional plant that was beside an aisle or on a shelf.</p><p>After 30 minutes of silence between the two and no customers, Kenya sighed, turning to face Haru directly. </p><p>“So . . . You’re a student at Waseda too?”</p><p>Haru gave him a cursory glance. “I am. Botany major. Film Studies minor. Sophomore,” she answered curtly, using the most minimal amount of words. </p><p>In return Kenya replied, “Broadcast Journalism major. Junior.”</p><p>Haru gave a nod, seemingly uninterested. Kenya was used to not being as popular with girls as Shiraishi, but he had never been treated as such by one before.</p><p>“When do customers usually come in?” he asked, trying again to get the conversation rolling.</p><p>“Usually noon. From there it’s pretty nonstop during the weekends. Nothing too crazy, but not dead either. On the weekdays it’s a bit better, but me and you will be working the evening shift a couple of nights, and Uncle Jiro usually works the day shift since I have classes and I imagine you will too.”</p><p>Kenya was about to give a witty reply but was interrupted by the door slamming open, causing the bleached-haired tennis player to almost jump out of his seat. Kiyosumi Sengoku, the self-proclaimed “lucky” ginger,  practically jumped inside and dashed towards Haru at the counter, zoning in on where she was seated.</p><p>“Haru-chan!” He shouted in panic. “Can I please have your notes for calculus? Please! I was absent this week because of tennis, and I <em> really </em> need the notes for  the test.” Sengoku clasped his hands together in front of his face and made puppy-dog eyes at Haru.</p><p>The look on Haru’s face softened, and her face transformed into a smile. “You seriously owe me, Sengoku-kun. I’m not going to forget this.”</p><p>“I know. I know. I’ll owe you big time. How about I take you out on a date?” With that last question, Lucky Sengoku gave Haru a wink, one that he had given her plenty of times before.</p><p>Haru rolled her eyes, used to Sengoku’s antics at this point. “No thanks on the date, but I’ll give you the notes.” She turned around and dug around in her backpack before producing a purple notebook. Sengoku gave a whoop before literally yoinking it from her hand. </p><p>“Sengoku-san?!” Kenya uttered, not quite believing what was happening in front of him. “You know Takeda-san???”</p><p>Sengoku turned to Kenya with a stunned look. His eyes darted between the two behind the counter, not quite sure what was going on. “Kenya-kun, since when do you work here?” he asked. Sengoku considered Haru to be somewhat of a friend, and out of the many times he had visited her at work, he had never seen Kenya there before. </p><p>“Literally just today.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘why’? I needed a job, and here I am, working a job.” Kenya was never particularly close to Sengoku, but they did run in the same circles so he wasn’t worried about potentially offending the redhead.</p><p>“Wow, you’re so lucky to get to work with Haru-chan.” Sengoku rested his arm on the counter and sighed wistfully, completely ignoring the pointed look Haru gave him. “I would give my left arm to be able to spend so much time with her.”</p><p>“Oh please,” Haru spluttered, now unable to ignore what Sengoku was saying. “Don’t be so ridiculous.”</p><p>“But Haru-chan, you <em> never </em> hang out with me, no matter how many times I ask you to. The only time I see you is in class and when I come here.” Sengoku acted devastated, putting on the biggest pout that Kenya had ever seen him wear.</p><p>“Sengoku-kun, I would totally hang out with you, but if we were hanging out alone, you’d take it as a date, and that is something I don’t want to happen. Plus, even if I did want to go on a date with you, <em> which I don’t </em>, you’d probably just turn around and ask out the next pretty girl you see even if we were on a date.”</p><p>“Well, you got me there. I have to love all of the ladies.” </p><p>It was at that moment that Kenya finally felt some sort of solidarity with Haru, despite her less than warm introduction to him. They both turned to face each other, expressions completely devoid of anything, and both trying not to roll their eyes hard at Sengoku, who really hadn’t changed at all since middle school. </p><p>“How are you actually friends with this guy?” Kenya finally asked.</p><p>“I honestly have no idea. I ask myself that question literally every single time I see him,” Haru replied, completely ignoring Sengoku’s look of mock hurt.</p><p>“Excuse me,” Sengoku interrupted, “but <em> real </em> friends actually hang out with each other outside of school and work, and you always force me to come here to see you.”</p><p>“You’re absolutely right,” Haru replied, a small smile playing at the edge of her mouth. “I guess we’re not friends after all.” And with that she reached over, and yanked her notebook right out of Sengoku’s hands.</p><p>“Haru-chan, noooooooo!!!” he wailed, falling to his knees in front of the counter. “I’m sorryyyyyy. We <em> are </em> friends. I’m an idiot, and you should never hang out with me because I’m so stupid.”</p><p>Haru coolly regarded Sengoku, the smirk still plastered on her face. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you there at all, but I accept your apology, and I guess we are friends again.” She handed over the notebook once again to Sengoku, who took it and held it against his chest as if it were the most precious thing to him. </p><p>“I’ll never forget this Haru-chan. You’re the most amazing person in the world, and I’d be nothing without you.” Sengoku gave a deep bow to Haru before hurrying to the door, worried that he’d say something else to mess things up and have the precious notes taken away again. Right before reaching the door, Sengoku abruptly turned back around and said, “Well, since you know Kenya-kun now, why don’t you stop by our practices sometimes and watch? We hold practice matches quite frequently, and for once you’d be coming to where I am instead of vice versa.”</p><p>Haru tapped her finger against her lip. “Maybe.”</p><p>Sengoku seemed to accept the answer, leaving right as a customer headed inside the store.  </p><p>...</p><p>Haru was definitely right. Once noon came, a steady stream of customers came into the store to browse and buy music. A couple of times Kenya had to help a customer figure out how to turn on the record player at the listening station where a pair of headphones also sat so that they could preview their record before buying. </p><p>Kenya made it his goal that every customer he helped, the next one he would help faster, and faster and faster just to see what his record was. <em> No speed, no life! </em> And all that. He was currently clocking in at 2 minutes per customer up at the register, and that included small talk as well. He would have to figure out how to more efficiently bag up the records and hand it to the customer while ringing them up to beat his current score.</p><p>It wasn’t until after the store closed at six that Uncle Jiro finally waltzed in with the promised “lunches”. </p><p>“Dinner for everyone!” Uncle Jiro shouted, brandishing plastic bags full of takeout.</p><p>“This is literally from next door,” Haru pointed out. “We could’ve gone and gotten food ourselves.”</p><p>“Yeah, but would it have been <em> free </em>? Courtesy of your wonderful uncle of course.” He started unpacking the packed bowls of unadon, grilled eel in a sweet soy sauce glaze on top of fluffy white rice. </p><p>“Thank you, Jiro-sama,” Kenya said seriously, before immediately digging into the food. By the time Jiro and Haru had taken two bites of their food, Kenya had finished in record time.</p><p>“Are you going to throw up now?” Haru asked.</p><p>“What?” Kenya replied, throwing his takeout boxes into the trash.</p><p>“You know, like a puppy. Puppies usually eat too fast and then throw up because of how fast they ate. You’re not gonna do that, right?”</p><p>Kenya’s eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. “I’m not a puppy.”</p><p>“Yeah I can see that. If you were, you'd be much more bearable and much cuter.”</p><p>“I’ll have you know that I am considered to be cute by many people!” Kenya didn’t know why he was arguing with one of his bosses while in front of the other one. Haru had hit a slightly sore spot. In middle and high school, he was always super aware of how much more popular Shiraishi was than him, and Haru’s comment was a bullseye.</p><p>“I didn’t say you weren’t cute,” Haru stated matter-of-factly. “I think you’re cute.”</p><p>There was no flirtation or anything in her comment, just honesty. Haru didn’t seem like the type of girl who would lie to make someone feel better, and she also didn’t seem like the type to come onto her employees.</p><p>The silence stretched on for a second too long.</p><p>“I’m not hitting on you,” Haru said, eyebrows raised.</p><p>“I know that!” Kenya replied, flustered. </p><p>“As long as you know, then we have no problems.”</p><p>Now Kenya felt awkward. He didn’t mean to to make things awkward, just when Haru seemed as if she was starting to warm up to him. He had to admit, the record store was an awesome spot to work at, and both Haru and Jiro appeared to be nice bosses. He could not afford to fuck things up. Literally could not afford. Even then he could feel how empty his wallet was.</p><p>“Oshitari-san, are you okay?” Uncle Jiro asked, trying to break the awkward silence.</p><p>“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry if I made things weird.”</p><p>“If you have to know,” Uncle Jiro walked over and affectionately put his arm around Haru’s shoulders, “my beautiful niece here doesn’t date. Period. Something about love being a lie or something. So you don’t need to worry about her ever trying to bust a move on you, or anyone for that matter.”</p><p>Haru coughed, bringing Kenya’s attention back to her. “That’s not why I don’t date,” she said. “I just don’t believe in romance is all. It disgusts me.”</p><p>“Disgust is a strong word.”</p><p>“Well, that’s how I feel.” Haru pushed her uncle off of her, glaring at him for revealing such a thing about her to Kenya who she just met. </p><p>Kenya had to admit, his bosses were more interesting than he first thought. </p><p>“Well I guess that saves me a trip to HR,” Kenya joked.</p><p>Haru narrowed her eyes at him. “Like I would ever.”</p><p>“You’re the meanest boss I’ve ever had in my life.” Kenya put his hand over his heart, and pretending to stagger backwards in emotional turmoil.</p><p>Haru was about to snap a reply back before she took a look at Kenya’s huge smile. She shook her head in exasperation, choosing instead to just ignore Kenya’s comment. </p><p>“Are you going to say sorry to me for being so mean?” Kenya asked, popping up right next to where Haru was sitting. His dash over so fast that Haru wasn’t sure if he actually ran over or just teleported. </p><p>“I didn’t do anything wrong, and I was not <em> mean </em>,” Haru replied.</p><p>“You know what would be a <em> great </em> idea,” Uncle Jiro said. “If we all had some sort of bonding activity. An event to go to together or something. After all, <em> Haru </em>, you did say this was a family business, and we should welcome Oshitari-san as if he was the newest member in our family.”</p><p>“But he’s not.”</p><p>“Obviously.” Uncle Jiro made a sour face. “But we should all be on friendly terms. Oshitari-san, do you have any suggestions?”</p><p>“Me?!” Kenya asked. </p><p>“Yes, as the newest member to our team, I’m going to put you in charge of this bonding event!”</p><p>That felt more like a punishment than a reward to Kenya. “Uh, I guess, we could . . .” Sengoku’s exuberant face popped up in Kenya’s mind. “Well, I’m actually on the tennis team, and I know Takeda-san has friends on the tennis team, so why don’t you guys come and watch some of our practice matches?”</p><p>Uncle Jiro clapped his hands together in glee. Any event that forced his niece to meet new people was a <em> fantastic </em> event. “That is a <em> wonderful </em> idea, Oshitari-san! When is it?”</p><p>“We actually have practice matches Monday evening.”</p><p>“Why, you can bet that we’ll both be there. I’ll even close the shop early!”</p><p>Uncle Jiro’s smile only grew wider the longer that Haru glared at him. She didn’t mind the idea of going to the practice matches, but she didn’t like having to close the store early. </p><p>“But what about the store?” Haru asked.</p><p>“It’ll be fine for one evening. Plus, what’s more important than some familial bonding?”</p><p>“We’re not even all related!”</p><p>“But Oshitari-san could be like the older brother you never had, or the son I never had.”</p><p>“I love this idea,” Kenya chimed in. “Most of the players on the team have never even met my family so it’ll be like introducing a sister and an uncle. I approve of this bonding time.”</p><p>“Of course you would,” Haru sighed, rubbing her eyes. This was certainly madness.Were they actually going to pretend to be related? What was the <em> point </em> of this? Haru could never pinpoint Uncle Jiro’s madness, and the fact that Kenya was going along with it proved that he was just as nutty as her uncle.</p><p>“Should I call you Haru-chan as well?” Kenya wondered out loud.</p><p>“You might as well.”</p><p>“Haru-chan it is!” Kenya threw his arms around both Haru and Uncle Jiro. This was going to be quite the interesting job after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pairings are subject to change as the characters develop.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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